


A Beer Between Friends

by Rebound



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-28 23:32:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebound/pseuds/Rebound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Sandman drabble just for fun. COMPLETE.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Beer Between Friends

**Author's Note:**

> No beta because I don't have friends here yet and haven't posted any fanfiction before, so hopefully no glaring issues! Hoping to post more drabble later if people like this one.

Now that there was some distance, both in time and in space, from the events of their waking dream, Abbie was finally beginning to feel herself unwind - to feel the knots release from her body and her muscles relax. The three-quarters empty beer she held loosely in her right hand wasn’t hurting either.

She looked to her left at the man who had traveled with her through the terrifying dream. He was leaning back in the leather chair, his long limbs relaxed and outstretched. His eyes were half closed and his beer, too, was mostly empty. After initially tasting it with apprehension, he then declared that it was delicious and settled in quickly to the amicable silence that filled the dusty room. 

He was happy that beer hadn’t changed much over the years, and he was thrilled that he was no longer trying to stay awake using that ghastly energy drink that Abbie preferred. He shuddered internally at the thought of it. The chalky sweetness and the bubbles that jumped up his nose, spreading the terrible flavor throughout his brain - or so it felt.

Abbie broke the silence with a snicker. “I was thinking about yesterday - how you wouldn’t even walk next to the captain. You kept sidling over to keep me between you and him. Hilarious!”

“Well, I do not think that your captain likes me very much, so it seemed the prudent thing to do.”

“I don’t think the faceless dream monster liked you very much either, but that didn’t seem to stop you from tagging along.”

“Excellent point. However, keeping distance between myself and the captain is easy. Leaving you to fight Ro’kenhrontyes alone was quite impossible. I had no choice but to try and assist you in any way that I could.”

“No choice. Because I’m a woman?” Abbie was ready to break out some serious equal rights on his ass.

“No, Miss Mills. Because you are a friend.” That response stopped her planned tirade cold. 

“You are my friend as well as my companion in this supernatural adventure. We are tied together in this journey.” He paused. “In addition, you are the only one who I think truly believes me. Without you, I feel I would find myself back in the asylum in short order.”

Abbie shuddered. The thought of Ichabod in an asylum disturbed her. She still sometimes saw the scene that was in front of her when she had gone back in to break him out. The panic in his eyes and the fear in his face as he struggled against the two large men who tried to hold him down while the doctor approached with a needle - it was an image that she couldn’t easily forget. She realized now that Ichabod surely didn’t know what a injection was. What on earth had he thought was going to be done to him?

It was he who had broken her out of her frozen state. His voice that had forced her back into action. It was obvious that the Sandman had no interest in Ichabod. He had only turned on him after he refused to stop shouting at him to leave Abbie alone. It was the sight of the demon attacking Ichabod that had broken Abbie’s trance. In the dream world, Ro’kenhrontyes had begun choking the life out of Ichabod and then, having forced him to his knees, had with one swipe cleaved Ichabod’s arm from his body in a shower of sand. 

Abbie couldn’t even begin to describe how relieved she was that Ichabod’s arm was still attached after they woke up. After they had re-dressed and left, he continued to reach over with his right hand as if to assure himself of its continued presence.

They sat again in companionable silence. A few more sips of beer later, Abbie spoke again

“Crane, how much of what happens in this time don’t you understand?” It was an awkwardly phrased question, but Ichabod clearly understood what she meant.

“Easily half of what you and others say I find utterly confusing. And substantially more of what I see I find equally as confusing.” A brief pause as he took a slow draw on his bottle. “But I am also constantly surprised by how much has stayed the same. Human nature, body language, the things people care about...”

Abbie smiled a little at Ichabod’s unfailing optimism. She didn’t think that she would be taking things so well if she had been the one who had woken up 250 years in the future. She supposed that she should be thankful that it had been Ichabod who had been chosen to sleep and then wake with the horseman. He had been an educated man, a liberal man, and a man who was comfortable with change and adapting to new situations. Going from professor and scholar, to Redcoat and soldier, to revolutionary and spy seemed to have prepared him for the culture shock of waking up in the 21st century. 

As this insanity became her reality, Abbie was realizing that this could have been much worse. If she had to fight demons and spirits and underworld creatures at least she had Ichabod by her side.

Ichabod was feeling loquacious, however, and continued. “Some things are simple enough to grasp as long as I don’t examine them too closely. Your “cars,” for example, are obviously an advancement on a carriage. As long as I don’t try to understand why or how it works without horses I seem to be able to get along well enough. You have somehow harnessed the fire in a lamp and are able to light and extinguish it at will. You have determined a way to load a gun with many bullets. I saw advancements in this technology during my lifetime as well, so it is logical that more advancements would be made after my death.”

“There are other things that I am taking on faith - and by seeing that you are unconcerned by them - that they are not also some sort of evil witchcraft. You have a device that allows ones disembodied voice to be carried across space. There are images of people and things moving and speaking from a panel on the wall. These things, I admit, make me feel like a man out of my time.”

“And as for your unusual turns of phrase…” Ichabod trailed off and turned back to his beer and drained it as well as any frat boy. “Well, I am working on those.”

With a smile, Abbie finished her beer with just as much relish. “Crane, I can’t wait until you see an airplane.” He glanced back at her with confusion in his face. “Lets deal with that tomorrow,” Abbie continued, leaning over and passing him another beer. “I don’t think I’m up for that one tonight.”


End file.
